Sing Me to Sleep
by singyourheartout287
Summary: Fill for Blangst Prompt of the Day 794. Blaine becomes overwhelmed with NYADA and life, exhausted from lack of sleep that anytime he actually does lay down he falls asleep almost immediately. Then he gets hit with a bout of insomnia and can't cope. Kurt does the best he can, but they're both busy, and neither one of them notice it's a problem until it's almost too late.


After his last class on Friday ended at 2:15, Blaine rushed to get to rehearsal on time for a stage combat project he and his partner, Kevin, would have to present on Monday. From there, he headed to another rehearsal for a student production where he was playing a street vendor. Then he headed to yet _another _rehearsal for that semester's musical, _Hair,_ that Blaine was on props crew for. By the time he got home, it was just past midnight.

"Hey, I'm home," he called out, dropping his bag at the door and hanging his coat up.

"Kurt's not," Rachel said from the couch. "He went out with some friends to Callbacks. He said you shouldn't wait up."

Blaine deflated. "Oh." He came over to the couch and collapsed next to Rachel, propping his fee up on the table. "Why aren't you with him?"

Rachel shrugged and leaned her head on Blaine's shoulder. "I guess that's just not my scene anymore."

"Can't blame you."

Ever since Finn's passing, Rachel hadn't been the same. It wasn't bad or good, per se. It just was. She was calmer, more down to earth, more self-aware. It was nice, but sometimes Blaine missed the old Rachel.

"What are you still doing up?" Blaine asked.

"I took a nap earlier. It was supposed to just be my daily half-hour energy-boosting nap, but I forgot to set an alarm and ended up sleeping three hours instead."

Blaine envied her. He wished he had the problem of having _too much _sleep. He couldn't get enough. It was always rehearsal after rehearsal after rehearsal. Which was to be expected at a performing arts school, of course, he just didn't expect it to be so _much. _It was overwhelming, to say the least.

It was a comfort to be living with Kurt, though. Blaine's favorite thing was to be able to come home after a long day and curl up with Kurt in bed. He wished he could do that every day, but he knew it wasn't fair to Kurt. They had their own lives outside of each other and he couldn't expect Kurt to wait around for him. Kurt had his own rehearsals to go to, his own practices, and he had a group of friends that he liked to spend time with. Blaine understood that, of course. He didn't blame Kurt. He just missed him, sometimes.

Like tonight.

He settled further into the couch and leaned his head on top of Rachel's. He was asleep within seconds.

... ... ...

The next morning, Blaine woke up in his bed. He frowned and threw out an arm to see if Kurt was next to him, but he wasn't. He groaned and swung his legs over the side of the mattress, standing up and padding into the living room.

Kurt stood at the stove and smiled when Blaine came in. "Hey, I was just making breakfast."

"Did you carry me into bed last night?"

"Oh, yeah. I got in around 1:30 and found you and Rachel asleep together on the couch. So I carried her to her bed and then carried you to ours. You guys looked so cute and peaceful I didn't want to wake you."

"Mmm. Thank you."

"Of course. If you sit at the table I'll have some eggs and toast ready for you in a minute."

"Alright."

Blaine pulled out a chair and dropped into it at the table. Even though he'd just woken up, he was already tired again. Or maybe still tired. He was always tired these days so there was really no differentiating the state. He folded his arms on the table and laid his head down, dozing off again when a plate nudged his arm.

"Sleeping Beauty, your breakfast is ready," Kurt said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Blaine lifted his head and pulled the plate in front of him. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"So what are your plans for the day?" Blaine asked, picking up his fork and digging in on the scrambled eggs. "Could you grab the salt for me?"

Kurt came over and set the salt and pepper by Blaine's plate before sitting down next to him with his own. "Marcia and Lewis wanted to go to Central Park and do an improv routine. They have other people coming, too, I think. And of course you can come. Then Todd wanted to take me and a couple other guys to the new gay bar over in Greenwich Village. Which you are also invited to join in on."

"Hmm." Blaine took a bite of his toast and weighed his options.

Rehearsal for _Hair_ would be in the afternoon that day, which left his evening free to join on the gay bar adventure but took away the improv exercise. That was even if he wanted to go to the gay bar at all. With how tired he'd been lately, Blaine figured he'd rather just stay at home and watch a movie and turn in early. He was also dying to spend more time with Kurt, though.

"I'll go with you to the gay bar tonight. I have rehearsal this afternoon so I won't be able to go to Central Park."

"That's fine. This is going to be so fun! You and I haven't gone to a gay bar together in a while."

"Not since Scandals, I don't think."

"Oh, you're right. Well this is good! We'll go tonight," Kurt said, smiling at him.

Blaine smiled too and nodded. "Yeah. It should be fun."

They finished eating in comfortable quiet. Their relationship had progressed to the point where they didn't feel the need to have constant chatter; they were content with silence. Blaine reached over took Kurt's hand when he was half-way done with his eggs, and Kurt squeezed his fingers and smiled at him.

When they were done, Kurt picked up both of their plates and headed to the sink.

"Hey, you cooked, I can clean," Blaine said, following Kurt and taking the dishes from him.

Kurt laughed. "I really don't mind, Blaine. Besides, you look tired."

"I just woke up."

"Doesn't mean you can't be tired." Kurt turned on the faucet and took the dishes back from Blaine, placing them in the sink before grabbing one of the plates and running it under the water. "Why don't you go lay down on the couch and put something on? I'll come join you in a minute."

"Don't you have your improv thing?"

"It's not for another few hours. We have time for a movie or a few episodes of something. It's up to you."

"Okay." Blaine kissed Kurt's cheek. "Thank you."

"Of course, babe."

Blaine headed over to the couch and sank into the cushions, turning on the TV. He flipped through the channels before settling on a marathon of _Tabatha's Salon Takeover _on Bravo. After a few minutes, the water stopped running and Kurt's footsteps sounded on the floorboards. He patted Blaine's legs and crawled onto the couch, laying on top of him and putting his head on Blaine's chest. Blaine smiled and wrapped his arms around Kurt's body, letting his fingers scratch lightly over Kurt's back over his sweater.

"Mmm, that feels nice," Kurt said.

"Yeah?"

"Mmhmm."

"Good."

Blaine leaned his head back and closed his eyes, focusing on his lazy hand movements across Kurt's back and the feeling of Kurt's heart beating against his own. He dozed off again at some point and was woken up by a gentle tapping on his chest. He blinked his eyes open and see that Kurt had propped his chin up on his hands on Blaine's chest and was smiling at him.

"Oh, sorry. I don't remember dozing off," Blaine said, rubbing his face.

"You seem to be doing that often. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Just tired."

Kurt gave him a sympathetic smile. "I know NYADA can be overwhelming, but you'll get used to it. Coffee is your best friend."

"I've been drinking four cups a day. I may need to start snorting cocaine."

"I know a guy."

"Yeah?"

"Fair pricing too."

"Awesome."

They met eyes and laughed. Kurt brushed some of the loose curls off Blaine's forehead and sighed. "I'm sorry things are so crazy right now."

"It's not your fault."

"I know, I just wish there was something I could do to help."

Blaine bit his lip. "Well..."

"Yes?" Kurt asked, raising his eyebrows.

"It's just... I know you're busy too, and that you have other friends, and I get that, but maybe..."

"Maybe...? Baby, it's okay. You can talk to me."

"Maybe we could spend more time together? Have a couple nights out of the week that we don't make any plans, so that whoever comes home last has someone to come home to."

Kurt smiled, eyes crinkling as he tilted his head down and kissed Blaine's chest. "Of course we can do that. That sounds very nice."

"And when _Hair_ closes I'll have a lot more free time."

"Freshman tech crew is the _worst_. I totally understand. When does the show go up?"

"Next Friday."

"That's not so bad. Blaine, I know it feels like it never ends, and like you're never going to sleep or rest again, but it does end. You'll get there. You just have to pay your dues, and I _know _that sounds so lame and pretentious but it's true. Next year will be easier. I promise."

Blaine sighed, dragging a hand down Kurt's back. "I sure hope you're right."

"I am. You trust me, right?"

"Yes. Yeah, absolutely."

"Then trust me when I say it'll get easier."

"If you say so," Blaine said.

Kurt smiled and leaned forward, pushing up Blaine's body to meet him for a kiss. Blaine's hand came up to cup the back of Kurt's head to hold him there, opening his mouth and breathing deeply through his nose. Kurt tipped his head to the side and licked into Blaine's mouth, tongue brushing against Blaine's. He shivered and canted his hips up against Kurt's, making Kurt moan into his mouth.

"Where are Rachel and Santana?" Blaine asked, panting as he pulled away.

Kurt stared down at him with dazed eyes and kiss-swollen lips. "Um-work?"

"When are they coming back?"

"I don't remember."

"Wanna chance it on the couch?"

"You bet your ass I do."

... ... ...

Blaine got back from rehearsal right around dinner time. He slid the loft door open and was greeted by all three of his roommates eating pizza on the couch.

"Hey, baby. How was rehearsal?" Kurt asked.

Blaine shrugged and fell into the armchair. "It was fine."

"Well, there's pizza," Kurt told him.

"I ordered meat lovers," Santana added. "Just for you two."

Kurt rolled his eyes and picked up one of the boxes. "This is the one I got for you. It's supreme."

"Thank you," Blaine said, leaning forward and grabbing a slice. "How was the improv thing?"

"Oh, please don't get him started," Santana groaned.

Rachel giggled. "I think it's funny! Tell it again, Kurt."

"Okay. Well, I got there, and half the people didn't even show up. It was just four of us, which is just...embarrassing. Then the guy who was supposed to play guitar for a few of the games didn't bring his guitar, so half our routine was gone. Marcia slipped in the middle of a skit and fell on her hand wrong, broke her wrist, and ended up crying so hard she passed out. But the crowd-the _very small _crowd that bothered to pay attention to our train wreck-thought it was part of it and laughed and clapped. Meanwhile Lewis is freaking out and tries to call 911, but his phone's dead, so he has to borrow mine. It was just..." Kurt closed his eyes and shuddered. "Total disaster."

Blaine couldn't help it. He laughed. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. That sounds...really and truly awful."

"It was. Be glad you weren't there."

"Are we still going out tonight?"

"Definitely. I need something good to make this day worth it."

"Where are you guys going?" Rachel asked.

"A new gay bar that just opened up last weekend. A few guys from NYADA are going and they invited me, so I invited Blaine," Kurt said.

Santana snorted. "You two at a gay bar?"

Blaine frowned. "What's so funny about that?"

"You two are the most married, _boring, _settled couple I've ever seen. I can't imagine you guys doing anything fun."

Blaine looked at the couch and then glanced up to meet Kurt's eyes. They smirked at each other and Kurt shrugged. "I guess you're right, Santana. We're just _so _boring."

"It's a good thing we're going out tonight, so we can be less boring. For once," Blaine said.

"Come on, baby," Kurt said, standing up and holding a hand out to Blaine. "Let's go get ready for our annual night of being un-boring."

Blaine took the hand and stood up, following Kurt into their bedroom. They pulled the curtain closed and Kurt pulled Blaine into a hug, wrapping his arms around Blaine's waist. He held him for a long moment before pulling away, leaning his forehead against Blaine's.

"What was that for?" Blaine asked.

Kurt gave him a quick kiss before pulling away completely and walking over to their clothes rack. "Nothing. I just love you."

Blaine sat on the edge of the bed and smiled. "I love you too."

"Now we need to get you into something cute. You can't go to a gay bar in your tech blacks."

"Are you sure you wanna go tonight?"

Kurt turned around and frowned. "Yeah. Are you?"

"I don't know, it's just... It's been a long day. A long week. A long couple of months. I want to go out and have fun with you, but I'm also..._really _tired."

"Well you can stay in, hon. You don't have to come."

"I know, but I want to spend time with you."

"Do you want me to text Gabriel and say we're not going?"

Blaine sighed and shook his head. "No, I don't want you to do that. You seemed so excited about this this morning."

"I don't know what you want from me here," Kurt said, holding out his hands.

"I know, I know. I'm sorry. I don't even know..." Blaine dropped his head into his hands. "I don't know. I don't know what I want. I haven't had a decent amount of sleep in so long I've forgotten what it feels like to not be tired. My brain isn't functioning properly."

"Maybe you should stay here then and go to bed early. Do you want me to stay with you?"

"No, you don't have to do that."

"I'm offering."

Every bone in Blaine's body was screaming _Do it! Take him up on his offer! Make him stay! _but for some reason, he couldn't do it. He didn't want to make Kurt feel obligated to stay with him. He didn't want them to be one of those couples full of resentment because one of them asked too much of the other. He couldn't let that happen with them. He knew how much Kurt wanted to go and he could survive another night alone. He'd done fine so far. Besides, relationships were about sacrifice, which meant Blaine could sacrifice his comfort for Kurt's fun and happiness.

He shook his head and did his best to give a genuine smile. "No, it's okay. Really. Go have fun. You can scope out the place and maybe you and I can go just us after _Hair _closes."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Really sure?"

Blaine laughed. "Kurt, really. I want you to go have fun."

"Okay. If you insist."

"I do."

"Wanna help me pick out a pair of pants?"

"Do I want an excuse to stare at your ass? Obviously."

"Just for the record," Kurt said, laughing as he swept through his clothes, "you don't need an excuse for that. We're getting married, babe. This ass is yours."

"I'm so blessed."

Kurt laughed again and grabbed a pillow from the head of their bed to throw at Blaine. He caught it, laughing, and re-situated on the bed to lie along the edge, resting his head on the pillow as he watched Kurt try on different outfits. Eventually, 45 minutes later, Kurt was dressed to impress and ready to go out the door. He dropped a kiss to Blaine's forehead before leaving.

After he heard the loft door slide shut, Blaine crawled up the bed and got more comfortable, ready to go to sleep. It wasn't even nine o'clock yet, but he figured if he went to sleep now he could get at least ten hours, maybe twelve if he was lucky. It would be the first time he slept longer than four hours at a time in months.

Unfortunately, he couldn't seem to fall asleep.

And he knew it wasn't just because he was alone, because he fell asleep alone all the time. He couldn't blame Kurt for going out, not when he'd pushed him to do so. No, this wasn't Kurt's fault. It was something else. Something that Blaine couldn't work out in his mind, much less put words to out loud.

Something strange was going on with him. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation, or maybe it was the strange city that he still hadn't gotten used to, or maybe it was the over-exertion with all the rehearsals and homework he had going on. Whatever the cause, it was making him feel...

How did he feel? It was intangible, something he couldn't put his finger on. If someone were to ask him, "Hey, what's wrong?" he wouldn't have an answer. He didn't know what it was or how to say it.

He was just lost.

He turned over, trying to get into a more comfortable position, but that one didn't feel right either. He huffed and rolled over to lie on his back, closing his eyes, but his joints just didn't feel right. After he flopped over and laid on his stomach for a minute and _still _didn't feel comfortable, he got out of bed and went back into the living room.

Rachel sat on the couch, idly playing with a lock of her hair as she stared at the television.

"What're you watching?" he asked, coming in to sit beside her.

She glanced up at him and smiled. "It's a documentary about Barbra Streisand. I popped it in as soon as Santana left."

"Where'd she go?"

"With Kurt. She said she wanted to see 'the gays in their natural habitat.'"

"I think she forgets sometimes that she's a lesbian."

Rachel laughed. "Doubtful. I think she just views herself as being separate from gay men. Which isn't uncommon in the LGBT community, actually."

"Oh, yeah. It's really sad."

"It is." They lapsed into quiet for a minute as the narrator of the documentary spoke about Barbra's childhood. "So why didn't you go with Kurt?"

"Too tired. I tried to go to sleep, but I couldn't get comfortable."

"How come?"

"I don't know."

Rachel glanced over at him and offered a sympathetic smile. "I'm sorry. I know how tough freshman year can be, but it gets better."

"That's what Kurt said."

"He's right. The freshmen are always assigned all the grunt work for the shows. Once you move up, you won't have as much going on."

Blaine nodded but didn't say anything in response. It was the same thing Kurt had said to him, but it didn't make him feel any better. Sure, things would get better next year, but that didn't make them any better now. It didn't give him more time for sleep, or more energy for rehearsals, or more clarity of mind.

She patted his leg and said, "You know what you need?"

"What?"

"A head rub. Come on, lay your head in my lap."

Blaine laughed. "I don't think you want to touch my hair. It's drenched in hair gel."

"So go wash it out. I've seen you without gel before. I don't know why you insist on keeping it in around the loft anyway. Everyone that lives here was at prom, Blaine."

"Good point."

He stood up from the couch and disappeared into the bathroom for a minute, rinsing his hair out in the tub with cold water before towel-drying it. It wasn't completely dry, but it was good enough. He came back to the couch and laid down, resting his head in Rachel's lap. Her fingers immediately sank into his hair, fingernails scratching gently across his scalp.

He shivered. "Okay, you're right, this is exactly what I needed."

"Of course I was right, Blaine. I'm always right."

"Oh, duh. I can't believe I forgot."

"I can't either."

Blaine smiled and closed his eyes, nestling further into Rachel's lap. It didn't even bother him that he was so close to her vagina because her fingers were working such magic in his hair. "You know, Rachel, you're a really good friend."

After a beat, Rachel said, "Thank you, Blaine. It means a lot to me that you'd say that."

She massaged his scalp for the rest of the movie, never stopping or complaining of her fingers getting tired. Blaine fell asleep as the credits started to roll.

... ... ...

Over the next couple of weeks, Blaine got less and less sleep. It got to the point where he was lucky if he got a few hours at night and was able to sneak in a half-hour nap during the day. He knew it wasn't good, and that his body would shut down if he didn't get the sleep he needed, but he just didn't have the time. He had _Hair _rehearsals in the evening that ran past midnight and rehearsals for class assignments before his classes started early in the morning. All of that on top of the regular homework he already had.

He was worn out. He was exhausted. He was tired. He was...

He was losing his mind.

Sometimes he'd check out in the middle of class, go to another place entirely. His mind would wander off and consider the things in his life, question what he was doing and why he was doing it, if it was worth it to continue. The only thing that really kept him holding on was his friends, his family. The people in his life. Kurt, Rachel, Cooper, his parents. He didn't hear from his family much, but when he did, they were always very warm and said how much they missed him.

If nothing else, Blaine knew he had family. Not just in his blood, but in his home. He and Rachel spent more time together and began forging a truly deep friendship, one he couldn't quite explain if asked. Even Santana had become quite important to him. And of course, there was Kurt. That went without saying. And Sam, who came over frequently to play video games or just hang out and talk.

Still, sometimes it just...didn't feel like enough. And Blaine hated to think that because he it made him feel so ungrateful for the wonderful people in his life, but he couldn't help it. There was something going on with him that he couldn't understand and it made him feel restless and insecure.

Kurt noticed, kind of, but he was busy with his own things. Blaine didn't blame him, not when he was just as busy as Kurt was. It was easy to get caught up in your own life and forget to really stop and take notice of those around you. Blaine didn't fault him for it. He just wished that Kurt was around more. They had their two nights a week where they stayed in, but it didn't feel like enough.

That was the thing. Nothing felt like it was enough anymore. Blaine had so many good things in his life, and he couldn't be happy about them. He was a little stressed and over-worked, but so was every other student at NYADA and they seemed to be handling it just fine. So what was so wrong with him that it was totally breaking him down?

He tried to put those thoughts out of his mind as he worked on taking down the lights from the catwalks at strike on Saturday night for _Hair. _

"Heads!" someone called out.

Blaine shouted back "Thank you heads!" with the rest of the company even though it didn't apply to him up in the cats.

"How long do strikes usually last here?" Blaine asked Casey, the guy working next to him.

Casey shrugged. "Two in the morning? Definitely not past three."

"Oh, god," Blaine groaned.

Casey laughed. "You'll get used to it."

"I hope so."

"Freshman?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah. Think of this as NYADA boot camp. If you make it through your freshman year, you know you have what it takes."

"And if I don't make it?"

Casey looked over at him. "Then you should probably transfer to another school."

Well, that was comforting.

Blaine made it through to the end of strike-barely, but he made it. He drank a 5 hour energy drink around 12:30am but it did nothing but keep him barely conscious long enough to make it to the end, which wasn't until 2:17am.

He didn't remember how he got back to the loft, but somehow he managed. He slid open the door and was greeted with a dark silence, so he did his best to be quiet as he walked into his and Kurt's room. Kurt was on his side, snoring softly. Blaine kicked off his shoes and climbed into bed, falling asleep the second his head hit the pillow.

The next day, he didn't wake up until 1:30 in the afternoon. It was the longest he'd slept in his life, on top of being the longest he'd slept since he arrived in New York. When he walked into the living area, he found Kurt and Rachel sitting on the couch, sharing a bowl of popcorn and watching _House Hunters: International._

"I really like the balconies, but the kitchen is really small," Rachel said.

Kurt laughed. "Please. As if you'd ever cook anyway."

"I can cook!"

"You've nearly burned down the loft every time you've tried!"

"At least I'm trying!"

"Hey, guys," Blaine said, coming to sit beside Kurt.

They smiled at him as he sat down. "Look who's finally awake," Kurt said. "How was strike?"

"Dreadful. I never want to work crew on another show again. I have a whole new appreciation for techies."

"Yeah, that's kind of the point of the system," Kurt laughed.

"At least you don't have to do anything else for a while," Rachel told him. "All your projects are done, right? And Thanksgiving break is coming up. We don't get the whole week off or anything, but we do get that Wednesday through Monday off."

"That's nice," Blaine said.

Rachel nodded. "So you can relax now. Take the day and just rest."

"I'm way ahead of you," Blaine joked, glancing over at the clock by the door.

They laughed and Kurt carded his fingers through Blaine's hair, still caked in gel but loosened from sleep. "Are you hungry? You can have some popcorn. Or I can make you something."

"No, that's okay. I'm not hungry just yet."

"Let me know when you are. I'll make you something good."

Blaine smiled and leaned his head into the crook of Kurt's shoulder. "Everything you make is good."

"That's not true," Rachel said. "He burned the cookies last week."

"Only because you didn't tell me the timer went off and I didn't hear it!"

"You didn't hear it because you and Blaine were fooling around in your bedroom trying to beat the timer."

"We-we were not!"

"I heard you guys giggling about it in there in between kisses and other things."

Blaine met Kurt's eyes and laughed. "Oh my god. I _told _you she could hear us!"

Once Blaine was laughing, Kurt started laughing too, along with Rachel. It wasn't even that funny, not really, but it felt good to laugh and Blaine didn't want to lose the moment.

It passed, though, just like every moment. When they settled down, Blaine laid his head on Kurt's shoulder and wrapped his arms around Kurt's middle. Kurt threw and arm around Blaine's shoulders and trailed his fingers up and down Blaine's arm.

They had idle conversation as they watched TV, discussing the vacation homes until a new show about flipping houses came on. Blaine eventually did get hungry and Kurt made him a grilled cheese with three different types of cheeses and homemade bread he'd made in the bread maker that Blaine got him for Christmas a couple years back. The day turned dark quickly and night fell before Blaine even realized how much time had passed.

He was surprised when eleven o'clock fell and he still wasn't tired yet.

Kurt stood up from the couch, where they'd been all day, really, and stretched. "You ready to go to bed?"

"I'm, uh-I'm not really tired yet."

Kurt frowned. "Really?"

"Yeah, I don't know. Maybe it's because I got so much sleep last night. I haven't even been awake a full twelve hours yet."

"But you've been so tired lately."

The recognition of Blaine's exhaustion felt good; at least he knew Kurt had noticed, even if he didn't say or do anything. "I don't know. I'm just not tired yet."

"Huh. Well, I'm gonna head to bed. You can come join me whenever you feel tired."

"Alright. Love you."

Kurt smiled and leaned down to give Blaine a kiss. "Love you too. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Rachel popped out of her room as Kurt disappeared into his. She joined Blaine on the couch with a smile. "What are we watching?"

"Aren't you going to sleep?"

"Not yet. I figured I'd stay up with you. We can watch my bootleg DVD of _Wicked._"

Blaine laughed. "How about something more legal? We can watch _RENT."_

"Such a goodie two-shoes," she teased, smacking him playfully on the arm as she got up to put the DVD in.

"This coming from Rachel Berry. I'm shocked!"

"This city changes people, Blaine. I'm not the doe-eyed girl I once was."

"That's for sure. I like the new you, though. Not that the old one was bad, but I like you as you are now."

Rachel smiled as she came and sat next to Blaine on the couch again. "Thank you, Blaine."

"Of course."

They barely refrained from singing along, out of courtesy because Kurt was trying to sleep. Santana came home sometime around _Santa Fe _and joined them on the couch. She pretended to complain but they both knew she loved the musical. When it ended, just past one in the morning, Blaine figured he should probably go to sleep. Rachel had been yawning throughout the whole movie and Santana looked pretty tired as well. He kissed both of their cheeks goodnight and then went into his and Kurt's room.

Kurt was splayed out on his back, mouth parted slightly and eyelashes casting divine shadows across his cheekbones. Blaine climbed under the covers and cuddled up next to Kurt, laying his body half on top of him. Kurt snuffled a little but didn't wake.

Blaine figured that like he had been for the past months, he'd fall asleep the second he laid down, but that wasn't the case. Instead, he lay in bed for hours, trying to shut his mind off and go to sleep. He tried reciting a monologue in his head, then he tried singing a song in his head to lull him to sleep—(he even picked one that mentioned sleep: _Asleep _by The Smiths)—but nothing worked.

It didn't make any sense. He'd been so tired for so long, and now he couldn't sleep at all. Somewhere around three in the morning he got really frustrated and re-situated in bed, rolling over on his side with his back facing Kurt. It only took a few minutes for Kurt to roll over in his sleep and spoon Blaine from behind. The new position didn't help, though, and soon enough the sun was up and Blaine hadn't been able to sleep at all.

Reluctantly, he got out of bed and started getting ready for the day.

… … …

The insomnia lasted for two weeks. After the first few days, Blaine had become dependent on sleep medication. He took at least three pills ever night, and even then he only got about four or five hours. Enough to keep him going but not enough to keep him energized. He was exhausted all over again. Just when he'd thought things were starting to look up, they got even worse.

Thanksgiving arrived so quickly Blaine almost panicked about not calling his parents or booking a flight home. When he did call them, though, they said they'd flown to Prague for the week, so Blaine didn't need to go home anyway. When he told Kurt, Kurt insisted on staying with him, and so Rachel stayed too, and Santana didn't want to go home anyway. They decided to have their own Thanksgiving family dinner.

It was nice, but quiet. Santana bought wine and Kurt made the turkey and Rachel handled all the vegetables. Blaine offered to help, but Kurt told him he ought to take a nap instead since he looked so tired. So Blaine headed into their bedroom and laid down, but he didn't get any sleep.

He never did anymore. And not because of any outward forces. No, now it was something wrong with Blaine. Internally. The thoughts that had begun creeping up weeks before came back again, taunting him and making him question everything he thought he knew.

The Sunday night after Thanksgiving, Kurt was working at the diner and Santana was out on a blind date. Blaine had sat at the kitchen table with Rachel for a few hours playing Scrabble until it got late enough that Blaine decided to go to sleep.

"I'm gonna turn in," he said, standing up and pushing his chair in. "Do you want help cleaning up?"

"No, you can go ahead. I'll probably stay up for another hour or two."

"Alright. Night, Rach."

"Night, B," she said, smiling. She tapped her cheek and Blaine leaned down to kiss it.

He went into his bedroom and pulled out his bottle of sleeping pills. It was brand new, the third one he'd bought in two weeks. He poured them into his hand and jumped when too many fell out. His palm was full of the little, white pills. He was about to put them all back except for his usual three when something stopped him.

He didn't know what it was. The delirium, the bad thoughts, the persistent ache in his bones and in his soul, but something gave Blaine pause as he stared down into his hand full of sleeping pills. He thought about what Casey had said a couple weeks ago, about how if he couldn't make it through his freshman year then he shouldn't even bother. He thought about what Kurt said, about how it felt like it would never end, but it did.

Maybe he could make it end now. Maybe…Maybe he could take these pills, and everything could end now. The exhaustion, the aching, the thoughts of nothing ever being good enough—including himself—that kept him awake night after night. He could fall into a deep sleep, for _once, _and finally be peaceful.

Blaine brought his hand to his mouth and tossed all the pills back, reaching for the glass of water on the bedside table and chugging it down. The bottle was halfway empty, and Blaine didn't want to do anything halfway, so he poured more pills into his hand and swallowed those too. Then he laid down and waited for sleep to overtake him.

… … …

Rachel heard her phone vibrate on the kitchen table and put the Scabble box back on its shelf in the living room before going over to check her messages. Kurt had sent her a picture of him and Woody Allen at the diner, and Rachel freaked out, jumping up and down. She didn't squeal because she didn't want to wake Blaine, but he'd been having so much trouble sleeping lately that she figured it wouldn't matter if she went in there. He'd only gone in a few minutes ago anyway, and Kurt had to have sent the picture to him too.

She pulled the curtain aside, grin on her face and phone in her hand, only to find Blaine asleep. Still, he probably wasn't _that _asleep, and he _had _to see this.

"Blaine! Hey, Blaine!" She shook his shoulder, thinking he'd wake up right away, but he didn't. "Blaine, come on, you have to see this picture Kurt sent me! I'm sure he sent it to you too, because you're fiancés, but if you'd already seen it you wouldn't be asleep right now!" He still didn't wake up.

Rachel frowned. Something was wrong. She looked around the room, moving her feet to get closer to the bed, but her foot rolled on something. She bent down to pick it up and found an empty bottle of generic sleep aid.

Her heart sunk to the pit of her stomach. She shook Blaine harder. "Blaine, come on, this isn't funny. Wake up." He didn't move a muscle, and that was when Rachel really lost it. Tears sprang to her eyes and her thoughts were overrun with _nonono not again I just lost Finn I can't lose Blaine too. _"Blaine, _please. _Wake up. I didn't… We just got to be good friends, and I… Just _please _wake up."

After she shook him for a good five minutes and got nothing, she pulled out her phone and dialed 911, vision blurred with tears.

"_911, what is your emergency?"_

"My—my friend, he—he took some sleeping pills. Too many. He isn't waking up," she cried, breath hitching.

"_What is your address? I'll send an ambulance right over."_

She told them her address and they said for her to stay on the line, so she did, sobbing as she knelt next to Blaine's frozen body. She leaned her head on his chest and almost collapsed in relief when she felt his chest rise and fall with breaths. "Just stay alive for me, Blaine. Just keep breathing, okay? I know things have been hard and you've been tired but just keep breathing for me. _Please. _I can't lose you too, not now, not so soon. It isn't _fair._"

He didn't respond. Of course he didn't respond, his body was overrun with chemicals and he was dying and _why wasn't the ambulance there yet? _The 911 dispatcher tried to calm her down, to tell her that if he was still breathing she caught him in time and he'd be okay, but they didn't know, they didn't understand, they weren't there and they couldn't _possibly _know what she'd been through, what she was going through in that moment.

When the paramedics finally came, they wasted no time in getting Blaine onto a gurney and taking him out of the building and into the ambulance. She followed them, weeping hysterically but trying to keep it somewhat together. She hung up with 911 when the paramedics arrived and dialed Kurt in the ambulance.

There was a lot of loud noise in the background—people talking and dishes clanging—so Rachel had to practically shout to be heard. "Kurt! Kurt, you need to go to the hospital."

"_What? Rachel, what happened?"_

"It's Blaine, he—he overdosed on sleeping pills. I'm in the ambulance right now, we're on our way to Roosevelt. You need to meet us there."

"_Oh my god. Oh—oh my god. Is he okay? Is he alive? Rachel, tell me what happened!"_

"I don't know! I came into his room a few minutes after he said he was going to sleep and I tried to wake him up to show him the picture you sent me and he—he wouldn't wake up! But he's alive, they say he's still okay, they're going to pump his stomach when we get there." Rachel wiped at her eyes, not even caring that her mascara was probably all over her face by now.

"_Okay, I'm coming, I'm on my way right now."_

"Kurt, I'm so scared," she cried.

He sniffed and said, _"I'm scared too, Rach. I'm terrified."_

She hiccupped and hung up the phone. It was too close, too much. She had just lost Finn, and now Kurt might lose Blaine, and none of them had any idea it was this bad, that Blaine's problems had gotten this deep. She knew he was tired and overwhelmed, but who wasn't their first year of college? They still laughed and had fun together, even when Blaine was hurting. He hid it so well, she had no idea, and she couldn't stop kicking herself for it on the ride to the hospital.

When they got there, the paramedics whisked him away to a room in the E.R. and she was told to go to the waiting room and sit until someone came by to talk to her about his condition. She sat in one of the chairs and dropped her head into her hands, still sobbing. She'd always been a crier, her whole life she'd cried at the drop of a hat. Her ability to cry on cue was always something she'd bragged about with great pride. But now, in this situation, all she wanted was to stop crying. To pull it together and be strong for Blaine.

Someone shook her shoulder and she looked up to see Kurt standing there, on the verge of hysterics with a red face and puffy eyes that were still crying. At least they were messes together.

"Is he okay? Have they said anything? When did you get here? How many pills did he take? Where did they take him?"

"Kurt, slow down, _please. _I don't know anything. They took him away and told me they'd come by to update me as soon as they could. He was still breathing the last time I saw him."

Kurt sank into the chair beside her and linked their arms together, burying his face in her neck. "I didn't even know something was wrong, how did I—how did I miss this? I knew he was struggling, but I didn't know—"

"I know. I didn't either, and I've been spending a lot of time with him."

"God _damn _it, Blaine!" Kurt pulled away and looked at Rachel. "He's always been so good at hiding his emotions, but I should've known, I should've seen it. We've both been so busy that I didn't even realize—I thought he just wasn't sleeping well, I didn't—and _god, _he overdosed on _sleeping pills_? Did he think it would be _funny_?"

"I don't know. I don't know anything, Kurt. I'm just as lost as you are."

Kurt bit his lip and started sobbing, falling into Rachel's arms. They held each other as they cried in the waiting room, waiting for someone to give them an update and tell them Blaine would be okay.

… … …

Beeping. That was the first thing Blaine registered when he woke up. A steady beeping, high-pitched and vaguely rhythmic. He blinked his eyes open and found Kurt sitting on a chair beside him, Rachel curled up in his lap. He looked down and around and realized that he was in a hospital room.

"What happened?"

Kurt and Rachel perked up. Rachel stood up and fell onto Blaine on the bed. "Oh my god, you're awake!"

"Um…"

"They said you were going to be fine, that you'd wake up, but I just don't trust doctors these days."

"Rachel, let him breathe," Kurt said. He stood up and walked around to Blaine's other side, taking his hand and smiling. "Hey, baby." He kissed the inside of Blaine's wrist. "I'm so happy you're okay."

"How did I get here?"

Kurt glanced over at Rachel and said, "You overdosed on sleeping pills. Rachel found you and called 911. They pumped your stomach when you got here. Thank god she found you when she did or…"

Blaine frowned. The memory came back to him, fuzzy but there. He wasn't sure if it was muddled because he was so tired, or if the overdose had affected his brain in some way. But it was there, vague and clouded all the same. Except now the thoughts didn't make as much sense as they did then. What was he _thinking_? "Kurt, I am _so _sorry. I don't—I don't know what happened; I don't know why…"

"Shhh. It's okay. Don't make yourself upset, okay? I'm just happy you're alive. We can talk about all of this later. For now, you just woke up, and I don't want to overwhelm you."

Rachel pulled away and sat on the edge of Blaine's bed, placing a hand on his chest where his heart beat underneath the skin. "Blaine, I'm _so _so glad you're alive. You…you really scared me."

Blaine felt a pang of guilt at Rachel's face, eyes flickering down to the Finn necklace around her neck. "I'm really sorry, Rachel. I didn't mean to do that to you."

"Just don't do it again, okay?"

"Okay."

"We're gonna get you help," Kurt promised, holding Blaine's hand with one hand and rubbing the other up and down Blaine's forearm. "Real help, okay? I spoke with the doctors and we're gonna have a special sleep doctor come talk to you before you're discharged, some fancy neurologist, and they're going to recommend a good therapist on your insurance plan."

Blaine frowned. "I'm not really sure that's necessary. The sleep doctor, definitely, but the therapist…"

"It's for the best, Blaine. A suicide attempt isn't something we can just glance over. This is serious," Kurt said.

Blaine bit his lip. Up until that point, he actually hadn't thought about it as a suicide attempt. He'd just thought… Well, he didn't know. All of his thoughts had been so jumbled and inexplicable lately that he wasn't sure what he'd been thinking.

"I think you're right. I don't know… I haven't been myself for a while now, and I don't know how to explain it, really. Maybe a therapist would help me figure it out and get my thoughts normal again."

Rachel smiled as her eyes filled with tears. "This isn't a bad thing, Blaine. The pills, yes, but not the therapist. I saw a therapist for years and I feel much better for it."

"Yeah, it's not a bad thing or something to be embarrassed about, honey. Lots of people see therapists."

"Lots of people," Rachel nodded. "You'll be just fine."

Blaine tried on a small smile, glancing between the two. "Thank you, guys. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Let's not think about that," Kurt said, leaning down and kissing Blaine's forehead. "You just get some rest, okay? We'll be here when you wake up."

"How long have I been asleep already?"

"Just a day. It hasn't even been a full 24 hours yet. You can get some sleep."

Blaine nodded and turned his head to the side, settling in and getting more comfortable. He squeezed Kurt's hand in his and said, "Will you sing something for me? To help me sleep?"

"Sure," Kurt said, smiling. He reached his free hand out to Rachel and exchanged a look with her before nodding. "_I should ink my skin with your name. Take my passport out again, and just replace it. See I could do without a tan on my left hand where my fourth finger meets my knuckle. And I should run you a hot bath, and fill it up with bubbles._"

Blaine giggled and closed his eyes, settling in and allowing himself to be lulled to sleep. Rachel joined in on the next verse, harmonizing with Kurt. _"'Cause maybe you're lovable, maybe you're my snowflake. And your eyes turn from green to grey, in the winter I'll hold you in a cold place. And you should never cut your hair, 'cause I love the way you flick it off your shoulder. Mmm."_

Kurt sang the next part alone, and it was the last thing Blaine heard before drifting off to sleep again. _"And you will never know just how beautiful you are to me. But maybe I'm just in love when you wake me up."_


End file.
